What Happens Undercover, Stays Undercover
by kasieli
Summary: A series of one shots and vignettes exploring Damian and Raven's friendship (...and perhaps more than friendship?) as they're both sent to Gotham Academy for an undercover mission. TITLE CHANGE AND UPDATE! Previously Gotham Academy x Demonbirds Oneshots.
1. Rainy Days

A/N: I'm sorry I'm trash and this is trash but I had to post it. Just a series of one shots and vignettes of the Demonbirbs attending GA for an undercover mission. This is meant to focus on their relationship aspect so I probably won't go full detail on the mission but yeah maybe it'll have a plot eventually but right now it's just whatever I want to write. Without further ado, here it is! Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I don't make money off of this ya-dee-dah just doing this for sheer fun

* * *

To her, he was Robin, Son of the Batman, the insufferable brat, and the infinite headache to the Teen Titans.

To them, he was the Prince of Gotham, son of Bruce Wayne, and overall the most popular and smartest and hottest guy in the senior class of Gotham Academy – if not _all_ of Gotham Academy.

Most of all, to everyone – her included – he was Damian Wayne.

Her _friend_.

"Did you not bring an umbrella to school today?" he asked as he leaned against the locker beside her and shook the umbrella at his feet to dry it off.

Raven secretly cursed at how comfortable he looked leaning against that locker, bundled up in Gotham Academy's fall uniform and without a single drop of rain on him. With each tap-tap of the umbrella colliding against the smooth stone floor she became more and more frustrated at herself for forgetting such a simple but necessary thing.

She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in her mind. People were already staring at her because the "great" Damian Wayne was talking to her. She didn't need people to realize she was sopping wet, too.

"Does it look like it?" she replied sarcastically as she struggled to free a soaked textbook from the depths of her messenger bag that was proving to be Narnia at the moment. Or maybe one of those hidden monsters from horror movies that snuck up on little girls and grabbed their feet and refused to let them go, dragging them to the depths of hell. She hated to admit it but the monster was winning.

 _Great_ , she was doing just utterly fantastic at making herself appear completely normal and not soaked to the bone in Gotham city's wonderful rain water. Not to mention the building was freezing and her sopping wet clothes made it all the more worse to the point where she was visibly shivering. That, plus Damian's presence next to her, plus the people that began to stare at her because of it equalled a Raven that just wanted to bury herself in her comforting sheets back in her room. Preferably with _dry_ clothes. And perhaps a cup of chamomile tea to soothe the fraying of her nerves.

She brushed a chunk wet hair out of her face, sputtering as it got caught in her mouth.

To her further dismay, it caused a vibration to emerge from Damian's throat.

She looked daggers at him as he shrugged and ran a hand through his fortunately dry hair.

"Don't laugh at me, jerk," she spat, squeezing some water out of her skirt. "I'm like a goddamn sponge."

"Don't worry, it's cute," he chuckled.

"Sure," she mumbled, hiding a blush with a curtain of hair as she attempted once again to free her textbook.

He laughed again as her hand slipped and whacked her right in the face. This time she groaned and cursed and was about to give up until Damian quickly stepped beside her and reached into her bag.

"H-Hey!" she called.

She caught a whiff of his hair gel as he leaned over her and his body was far warmer than the clammy clothing that was clinging onto her skin like soggy glue. For a few odd moments she found herself relishing in his scent and warmness until he shoved the textbook in her face with a valiant and lopsided grin.

She frowned immediately.

"Here, take this. And while I'm at it, I'll give you some clothes to change into," she snatched the book out of his hands with a scowl as he began digging through his bag, "and I can talk to the headmaster about pardoning your attire."

With a satisfied "a-ha" Damian dislodged a black hoodie and sweatpants from his bag and held it out to her.

She eyed it as if it contained some sort of bomb or if it were a trap or if it were contaminated with some kind of disease. Of course, the expression was far too familiar to him so with furrowed eyebrows, he asked, "What? It's not poisoned or anything."

She looked from his clothes to his innocently furrowed eyebrows and back down to his clothes again, her expression still the same.

"I have P.E. clothes…," she began, "If you can get the pardon I can just change into that."

He shrugged, but his arm stayed put.

"Wouldn't you be cold?," he reasoned with a raised eyebrow. "They like to keep it cold in here, you know."

Did Damian ever offer his clothes to anyone? She wasn't sure but the intrusive thought sounded tempting and the shivers that creeped on her skin were whispering insistently in her ears to suck up her pride and just take the damn clothes.

"I'll survive."

 _Azar_ , her pride always won, didn't it?

He sighed. "I'll talk to the headmaster, but just take the hoodie, alright?" He placed the sweatpants back in his bag but plopped his sweater in her free hand. "Just in case."

She didn't have time to protest as he called that he was heading to the headmaster's office. And by the time she had recovered from realizing he just gave her his sweater to _wear_ , he was way too far to throw it back to him or to tell him no so she held it tight to her chest as she grabbed her PE clothes and headed to the bathroom to change.

– – –

As she stepped out of the bathroom stall in just the bland blue t-shirt and black shorts which were admittedly way too short for school, she began to feel the residue of the wet clothes on her skin. It was as if a film of the rainwater was sticking on her, making her perpetually cold and clammy and she shivered at the uncomfortable sensation.

She sighed, shifting Damian's sweater in both her hands.

 _To wear it, or not?_

It was incredibly soft and black with some print in Gotham Academy's colors, and as she held it in front of her to further inspect it, found that it was actually his senior class sweatshirt. It also promised to be cozy and comfy and to wipe away the sensation of rainwater on her skin. She felt a tug in her heart at the thought of not getting one herself (maybe if she had, she wouldn't be in this predicament), but she was able to brush it away as she finally decided to pull it over her head.

She couldn't get away from the facts: she _was_ cold and Damian _had_ offered it to her, anyways.

She laughed at herself in the mirror as a familiar, hooded visage with dark, mysterious eyes came into view. Even in civvy clothes, hooded Rachel looked uncannily like hooded Raven. If anyone had seen her like this, she swore they would be able to guess the similarities. But she was alone, and she was able to relish in the quietude without anyone teasing her about a sweater that wasn't hers or finding out about her true identity. Her hands toyed with the edge of the sweater; it was far too big on her. It nearly looked like a dress, and her shorts were barely poking out. But it was comfortable, she couldn't deny it. The sweater smelled like...him. Like his hair gel from earlier and it was warm like earlier, too.

 _What the hell are you thinking, Raven?_

She shook her head, pulled the hood down, and tugged at her shorts, feeling her face grow hot as she rushed out of the bathroom. Before she could feel the embarrassment of her awkward attire, she heard two familiar voices ripping her away from her thoughts.

"Nice booty shorts, Wayne!," an obnoxious and loud voice called. She knew that voice, it was one of Damian's friends –

"Oof!"

She was met with a strong clap to her back and she spun around fast, a bubble of anger and confusion threatening to burst in her throat and she was about to retort until the familiar boy spoke first.

"Oh crap sorry, you're not Damian," he apologized innocently, scrunching his freckled face, and the bubble dissipated at his genuine expression.

Her eyebrows knit. "No, I'm not…"

His lips peeled back to reveal a mischievous smile as he leaned back and shrugged.

"You might want to get used to this whole misunderstanding as long as you're wearing _that_ ," he pointed out, motioning to the sweater. As he did so, the bell screamed, signaling classes had begun.

"Sorry, Rae, gotta go!"

With a casual salute, he ran off across the hall leaving her stunned and confused.

"What?" she mouthed, as she slowly made her way to her first class. Hopefully Damian's pardon also allowed her some time to be a little late.

What did he mean 'get used to this whole misunderstanding?'. It was just a black sweater. Almost every senior in Gotham Academy had one - except her. It wasn't as if people knew it was…

"Azar, oh no," she whispered in horror as distant memories began to unravel in her mind. Why had she just remembered now? Why didn't she remember before she put the sweater on? Or just turned it once around in her hands? If she had remembered, this whole misunderstanding wouldn't have happened. If she had remembered she wouldn't be roaming around in Damian's sweater which…

She turned to a nearby trophy case which was conveniently polished enough to the point where she could watch herself as her fingers traced the edge of a "E" on the back of the sweater.

...happened to have "Wayne" on the back of it.

She felt her face grow hot and her knees buckle, but being that his friend Grant had first period with him and was probably already blabbering to Damian about this incident and she didn't want to seem like she didn't want to wear it (because to be completely honest with herself, she did) if he happened to see that she had taken it off, plus the fact that she was cold and the sweater was so warm and smelled so nice, she decided to drag her blushing face, soaked messenger bag, and this goddamn sweater with "Wayne" plastered on the back of it in bright white, capital letters right to her first period class.

She hesitated at the door, her heart beating fast but she didn't know why. After all it was just a sweater. And they were friends. It wasn't unusual. People did it all the time.

... _Right?_

She sighed and shook her head, grasping the door knob.

"Here goes."

She didn't want to admit it to herself, but her mouth was curved into a small smile as she opened the door and walked in.

"Miss Roth," the teacher announced, "have a seat."

She nodded as she watched people murmur around her and as she sat down, her seat conveniently all the way at the back of the class, she found herself smiling. This time, she had to admit it to herself: she was _enjoying_ this.

But boy was she up for one exhilarating ride.

* * *

A/N: SHARING SWEATERS IS THE EPITOME OF MY HIGH SCHOOL EXPERIENCE OKAY AND I HAD TO WRITE IT NO MATTER HOW CLICHE IT WAS. I hope you enjoyed it though!


	2. Girlfriends

A/N: A little short and crappy, but I _had_ to include the cast of from the actual GA series, didn't I?

Also, it's looking like it's actually pulling together to form some sort of cohesive plot (At least this one is related to the last one)? I dunno yet. For now, enjoy the one shots!

Same ol' same ol', don't own em...ya-dee-ya

* * *

"Should I be suspicious that you two entered Gotham Academy at the same time, or no?," a dark, short-haired girl inquired Damian as she picked at her nails.

He watched her as she did so, clicking his tongue.

She had grown up quite a bit since he met her the first few times; her hair had grown out to the point where she kept it just below her chin. She might have grown a couple inches, too, and perhaps gained a couple of pounds in the process, but the consistently elevated mood, obnoxiously loud voice, intensely blunt questions, and love for making _everything_ into a mystery she had to solve stayed the same – that was the one and only Maps Mizoguchi for him.

"Do you expect me to answer that, or no?," he asked sharply in return, turning back to his work. "And find another place to groom yourself, would you?" He clicked his tongue again. "Disgusting."

She stuck hers out at him as she tried to kick him from underneath the wooden picnic table. He was able to move his leg just in time before her foot collided with it, making her hit the metal legs of the table instead. She rolled her eyes as he gave her a triumphant grin but continued to pick at her nails anyways.

"I should complain to your _girlfriend_ that you're being mean to me," Maps spat, her tone teasing. "She'd come to my rescue."

He felt his face grow hot.

Damian slammed his book shut, the "wham" much louder than he intended it to be, making him wince. So much for making himself appear unperturbed by Maps' badgering. When he eyed her with an irritated scowl, he found a satisfied smirk on her face. She knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

"Rachel is _not_ my girlfriend!," he retorted, his voice containing much more emotion than he had intended it to.

If he was trying to appear as if she didn't get under his skin at all, he was failing absolutely miserably.

Like a puppet, he could do nothing else but play along with her little game. It wasn't as if he wanted to; if he had the choice he'd just ignore her and her incessant calling of Raven his "girlfriend", but the only choices he deemed worthy were retorting and denying the claim whenever she brought it up, or using industrial level tape to keep her mouth shut – and the latter would most definitely land him straight in the headmaster's office, so of course he had no other choice than to just challenge the accusation every time it came about.

She sighed, "who said I was talking about Rachel?" Her attention went nonchalantly back to her nails as she started whistling a tune to herself.

He growled. "Never mind, I don't have time for this. I have work to do."

Opening his book, he tried to swat Maps' attempts of irritating him away by turning his attention back to his reading.

'I celebrate myself'...(1)

They were like little itty bitty pests that threatened to prick at his skin until he eliminated them.

'I loafe and invite my soul'...

There were present, just buzzing around his head, and they were able to be ignored, yes, of course they were, but he was Damian Wayne. He couldn't just _ignore_ them.

He snapped his head up and saw that she was already smirking down upon him, and he knew that she expected this very exact reaction at this very exact moment. It was as if she was counting down to the _milliseconds_. She immediately stopped whistling.

God, why was Maps so _good_ at this?

"What is it?," she asked innocently, folding her hands on the table.

"Don't play with me, I _know_ you were talking about Rachel."

She shrugged and began to twiddle her thumbs, dropping her head down to watch as she did so.

"No boy just gives his sweater to a girl, Damian. It's against high school code," she explained, her attention now latched onto something beyond his shoulder. She closed her eyes momentarily to bask in the cool October air, and when she opened them again, there was no trace of joking or teasing glistening in her dark eyes. She was absolutely serious. A first for Maps. "The amount of time you spend with her, plus that fiasco on Tuesday?" She shook her head. "Man, the whole school is bound to think _something's_ up between you two."

He felt his heart speed up at her simple implication and had to shift in his seat to make sure it was still working properly.

"I call B.S.," he countered, hoping it would help the uncomfortable sensation dissipate. "Rachel had no dry clothes so I offered her mine. We were friends before coming here." He shrugged and turned his attention back to his book, satisfied. "End of story."

"But Rachel _did_ have dry clothes."

He slammed his book shut. Again. And growled. Again.

"No she –"

The words teetered to an abrupt stop in his throat as an image of Raven cloaked in his sweater invaded his mind. It was a little too big on her and her fingers popped through the sleeves and made her look so small and the hem just stopped a little over her short PE shorts. He remembered how it made it him feel when he saw her in it, how a spark of pride lit up inside him, activating something inside him he didn't know existed. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but it looked kind of...se–

 _No._

And what's more is that he remembered the length of her shorts to the exact millimeter.

 _No, again._

Whatever this stupid feeling was, it made his heart beat faster and the sensation to intensify exponentially. But for the life of him, he didn't know what it was or how to stop it.

He felt a blush creep along the back of his neck and ears and it was seriously threatening to reach his face, but he shook his head and returned to the thoughts that mattered.

She _did_ have dry clothes.

Not that that trail of thought made it any better as he watched Maps' expression change as the realization that _she_ was right and _he_ was wrong dawned on him.

"Good job, buddy," she tried to soothe sarcastically as she patted his arm.

Geez, his heart just wouldn't slow down.

"Still, it didn't mean anything," he retorted, scratching the back of his neck to distract himself. "I was just being nice. People read too much into things."

"Sure, that's what they _all_ say."

And did it matter at all if he gave it to her anyways, if it was ultimately her choice to wear it? She must have known it possessed his last name on the back. He'd worn it around her, so she _must_ have known. She was an empath, too, so she must have at least _predicted_ people would react to seeing her in his sweatshirt. And she didn't take it off once throughout the whole day, as far as he knew. He did remember not seeing her around as much as he did any other day of the week, but he didn't really find it all that significant.

In any case, this was a two way street. If people thought they were dating it was only because she allowed for the rumors to circulate, just as much as he had. It wasn't like anyone besides Maps would ask him straight out anyways, so, in reality, there was really no rumor to thwart. If people wanted to know if they were together, they would just be able to ask him or Raven, and they'd each downright tell them no...

 _...Right?_

Sure, Raven was dear to him and he did feel more connected to her than the other girls he was close to, but that certainly didn't mean that she was –

"Oh, speaking of your girlfriend…"

"Maps, for the _last time_ , she's _not_ –"

" _Who's_ not _what_?"

He spun around so fast that he thought he might have given himself a whiplash.

"Rae?" The word was forced so quickly out of his throat that is sounded more like a croak.

Recovering, he coughed and gave her a once over, noting that she was completely dry today and thankfully not in need of a sweater. She also had a section of hair tucked behind her left ear – something he was not familiar to seeing but admittedly wouldn't mind getting used to. Her arms were no longer poking through massive sweater sleeves since her knitted, well fitting one was rolled up to her mid forearms, revealing her delicate wrists and a petit watch. She looked rather kept today contrasting the total mess she was on Tuesday. Albeit he missed it since it was kind of... _cute_.

He hadn't known how long he was staring at her but the snickering from behind him ripped him out of his trance and signalled that it may have been a little _too_ long.

Maps motioned to her. "Sit down, Rae, we were _just_ talking about you."

He watched Raven as she furrowed her eyebrows and took Maps' invitation. He felt the blush threatening to come back as Maps' snickering intensified when she decided to sit right next to him, out of all the free spaces surrounding them. "Why were you talking about me?," Raven asked in a slow, suspicious drawl.

Damian groaned.

His heart knocked against his ribcage. _Jeez_ , if this continued, this undercover mission was slowly going to be the death of him.

* * *

A/N: (1) Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself" from _Leaves of Grass_. Highly recommend. Whitman is my bae. I will probably use him again in the future, honestly.


	3. Competition

A/N: Another one? I had this idea floating around for quite some time. Some superpowers (and also intense training) means our birbs probably excel in gym class, right? It's a little messy since it was kind of fast, and I think a little more experimental than the last ones. There are a few writing styles I want to play with, so I'm guessing these one shots are a great way to do so.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, doing this for fun

Please enjoy!

* * *

"Make sure you roll those shorts as high as you can!" Raven heard the shrill giggling of girls behind her as she habitually tugged hers lower.

For Azar's sake, the last thing she wanted to do was listen to their stupid, boy-crazy banter, but the simple mentioning of _his_ name perked up her ears and glued her feet in place, even though she was already done changing.

"I've seen the way Damian Wayne looks at you," one girl cooed with her high-pitched voice.

"Stop it! You're making me blush," another countered playfully.

Raven froze.

She knew that voice, she knew it _very_ well.

It wasn't because she'd witnessed Damian talk to her more than enough times, or because he laughed with her when she told a joke, or she sometimes asked him to help with her Calculus problems – _and_ he _accepted_. No it wasn't that, it wasn't that _at all_.

"You guys get along so well! He's _always_ talking to you."

Raven clenched her jaw.

Okay...maybe it _was_ that.

She fumbled with her clothes inside her gym locker, trying to appear busy as the girl with the shiny, soft waved hair like silk and baby blue eyes passed her, still quipping away about Damian with her friends and how he was "soooooooo dreamy" and "such a gentleman" and la la la _this_ and la la la _that_. Raven rolled her eyes. If only they knew him back at the tower. Dreamy and gentlemen-like he was not. Well, he could be, but only on occasion. Rare occasion, at that.

As their annoying, prickling voices trailed away, Raven slammed her locker door shut, sighing heavily under her breath. How could Damian like her? How could he like a girl that looked like some doll and acted like some privileged princess, like someone that didn't know how to work to earn something?

She rolled her eyes again, trudging towards the door. If Damian _did_ like any person, Raven was 100% absolutely _positive_ that it would be someone that, at the very least, didn't rely on her girlish charm to woo guys, someone that wasn't always playing the damsel in distress. At the very least, Damian would like a girl that had a bite to her bark, someone that could fight, someone like…

"Okay kiddos!" the gym teacher called, causing her to jump.

She hadn't even realized that she had stepped out of the locker room and into class until the abrupt sound of his voice pierced her, knocking her right back into reality. The stupid reality in which this long-haired brunette and her petite figure and flowery voice and eyes like the morning sky were all focused on Damian. Raven gritted her teeth. They were talking and laughing again, and she felt a scissor snip at the heartstrings in her chest. She quickly tore her eyes away and swallowed hard.

Why was this getting to her, anyways? He was just her friend. Just her teammate. Just someone she knew a little more than usual and trusted a little more than normal. There wasn't anything wrong with that, was there? There wasn't anything special in that, right?

"Today we're taking a break from the fitness tests, and the winner gets a special prize," the teacher announced, drawing her attention.

At this point, Raven was satisfied that something, _anything_ at all, was able to abduct her from wandering into the deeper parts of her mind. The thought of not having to embarrass herself doing pull ups and count how many sit ups she could do in two minutes was glorious enough that she was able to relish in that instead of brooding over little miss sunshine and her perfectly curled hair and her shrill, melodic voice.

"So, we're going to do some dodgeball. Winning team gets to skip out on cleanup for a week."

 _Dodgeball?_

She found herself arching her brow. They never played dodgeball in P.E. before. Not that the name didn't give it away, but how in the world was it a physical activity to just... _dodge_ some _balls_. She felt a snort emerge from deep within her throat. These mere humans probably didn't even know the extent of dodging, not when they didn't have target practice against each other, like the Teen Titans did back at the tower, let alone the battles. Dodging _balls_ was nothing compared to dodging chunks of _buildings_. And thrown by enemies with superhuman strength.

"Teams are split halfway!" The teacher yelled, drawing a line with his arms. "You will be Team A," he motioned Raven and those to her side to the left while, _of course_ it left..."Team B," he shooed Damian and that doll princess with her too short shorts to the other side.

 _Just my luck_ , she sighed.

As if her day couldn't get _any_ worse.

She crossed her arms, leaning her back against the wall as her eyes remained on that girl as she continued to flirt with Damian. In her mind she fancied he was trying to shoo her away by not paying close attention to her and giving her hurried replies, but knowing her _amazing_ luck today, it was probably just her imagination. Azar, what if Damian _did_ like her? But his ears weren't pink and he didn't look flustered at all. She knew his reaction when his heart sped up in his chest, she knew because she saw it before. There were some things Damian was terrible at hiding. And quite unfortunately for him, feelings were one of them.

She nudged a ball next to her foot, deciding to distract herself as she watched it roll slowly away from her.

If he didn't like her, though, then why _did_ he keep talking to her?

"Okay class," the teacher's voice boomed. Raven jolted automatically from the wall.

"On my whistle, you can begin."

She exhaled slowly, her knees relaxing so that it allowed for a quick pounce, a bred-to-the-bone reaction, if need be. Her meditative mantra even flashed through her mind to focus power for an attack, before she quickly shut it down, trying to chuckle it off.

The battle stance was just so natural to her, as it was with Damian. Even though this wasn't a _battle_ per se, it was still team against team. Her against him, like in training. Her eyes flicked to him, and she swore they connected with his for a split second, but she snapped them away before she could confirm it, leaving just an uncomfortable sensation rippling throughout her chest.

"3….2….1…." The whistle shrieked, and the battle begun.

With practiced stealth and grace, she swooped down to scoop up a ball and propelled it forward.

She didn't mean to hit her, of course she didn't. It was an accident. Just an accident.

But as the ball flew speedily to the other side, it hit little miss doll face right in the chest, and her "oomf!" was more musical than any symphony in her ears.

It was _just_ an _accident_.

See? She couldn't even last a whole _second_ in this game of dodgeball. How could she be compatible with Damian who just side stepped and ducked and tossed balls like he was walking on air?

A smirk worked across her face as she watched those short shorts disappear from the court, as her feet dragged across the floor, and as she huffed as she plopped down on the bleachers.

With a satisfied chuckle, Raven picked up another ball and chucked it over, hitting another classmate on the thigh. Out. Of course.

She was too busy concentrated on dodging and throwing, even though it was as simple and unchallenging as she thought it would be, that she didn't even realize how her teammates were dropping around her like flies.

It wasn't until she snatched another ball and her eyes landed heavily on the last target on the opposing team, the figure unmistakeable, that she realized she was absolutely alone on her side, as he was on his. There was only one person in her P.E. class whose dark hair contrasted the pale blue of the P.E. shirt, not to mention just how well it formed to his torso. Her eyes trailed back up. And those green eyes. Nothing stood out like Damian's eyes.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt the strong connection of their eyes from even across the court. He seemed to be regarding her presence like she was the only one in the whole entire room, like there was no one else on either side of them, watching them awkwardly as they watched each other. She gripped the ball tight to her chest but couldn't seem to move even an inch of her finger to throw it. In her defense, neither did he. There was a sudden stillness that settled in the air, making Raven grow increasingly uncomfortable until –

"DEATH MATCH! DEATH MATCH! DEATH MATCH!"

The classmates' chanting successfully relieved that odd tension she didn't even know they felt, and she hissed out a breath that at some point during that time seemed to have hid itself in her throat. Now, each side was yelling for their respective teammate for this so called "death match" between her and Damian. It didn't entirely surprise her that Damian's chants were louder, being that she didn't think that half her class even knew her name. He was the popular one. She was just the weed on the sidewalk. The pest. The one people always forgot about. There were some redeaming cheers from her side, though, and it tugged upwards at her lips. Just a bit.

How did she even make it this far? She wasn't even trying. She just did as she was told. Dodge and throw. It wasn't like it required any intense effort on her part, and she wasn't even out of breath. How did she end up being the last person standing on her team to verse none other than her competition-fueled, winning-obsessed teammate?

She turned suspicious eyes at the teacher who in turn just shrugged.

"One team's gotta win," he replied, negligently rolling his whistle between his fingers. "Come on Roth, you've made it this far, don't let your team down now." He winked. "Show 'em how it's done."

She shook her head, sighing. He was right. She had to at least try for her teammates hanging on to the thought of not cleaning up equipment for a week.

"Okay Rachel Roth, Damian Wayne, may the best _dodger_ win."

There were a few undeniable facts about Damian. He liked competition. And he _always_ liked to win. If she didn't want to let her teammates down, she was going to have to brace herself.

There were few undeniable facts about Raven herself, facts she knew Damian had scribbled down in his none too creepy teammates 'strength and weakness' list. Raven, strengths: 'loyal', 'determined', 'a walking lie detector', 'would do anything for her teammates'.

He was right.

The screeching whistle just about hit her ears when she realized something was _already_ flying towards her. She chuckled. She could _never_ underestimate Damian's reaction time.

But he couldn't underestimate hers, either. She turned her body with much ease, forcing the ball to slam into the luckily padded wall but sending a shock reverberating throughout the gym. He also had some powerful throws, she already knew that of course, but the crowd's "oooooohs" meant they had just found out.

This time, she was able to dodge another throw while throwing a ball herself simultaneously, garnering some whoops from her side of the team. Damian dodged it with ease, lifting his foot and watching it as it skidded underneath.

He seemed to have smirked then, picking another one up as he chucked it with even more force at her than that of the first ball.

At this rate, this game was going to go on _forever_.

But the thought apparently came too soon.

He had already managed to throw another one, the angle and heights seemingly sandwiching her into her place, predicting her loss. But her mind was quick and articulate. She couldn't go left, she couldn't go right, she couldn't even jump high enough to dodge it (since civilians would freak out if she were to fly), but she could go –

"Down!" she huffed, slamming her hands into the ground as she quickly dropped into plank position.

She watched as the smirk grew across Damian's face, and he seemed to have murmured something under his breath. She couldn't catch it, though, he was too far to read his lips clearly and time was flying too fast.

Pushing herself up, she felt her breath starting to get heavy. Now _this_ was a toss and dodge match. Not like that child's play from before. She countered again but being that the force of her throw wasn't half as strong as his, plus Damian's added reaction time, it didn't seem to hinder him at all.

He bent over to pick up another ball, and Raven swore she saw a contemplative look run across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly, and he exhaled slowly and steadily, straightened his body…and threw...except...it wasn't half as fast as he was capable of. Of course, it was still much stronger than the average male could throw, yes, but it was slow compared to Damian's maximum speed and the angle was acutely aligned that so it landed perfectly in…

"Damian, you're out!"

...her hands.

"Team A wins!"

Did she just _win_?

No...

Did he just _let_ her win?

But Damian _always_ liked to win. He never just let someone win.

"That's what I'm talking about, Roth!" a few teammates patted her back, and she couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks or the smile that tugged upwards at her lips.

"Amazing, Rachel! Who knew you were so good at dodgeball!"

She was too distracted by watching little miss princess huff and scurry into the locker room, taking her short shorts out of sight without even batting one of her long eyelashes at Damian. Even if Damian had let her win, this was a victory no one could deny her of.

A kind red-head grinned at her, catching her attention.

"The quiet ones have the wildest surprises, don't they?"

She couldn't help it as she returned the gesture, her face softening into a bright smile. It was always the type of smile she'd give Kori, and this tall red-headed always reminded her of her favorite Tamaranean princess back home. The aura, the hair, the smile, the gestures.

She heard someone whisper behind her, "Holy crap, she's smiling" and perhaps even a "wow" and she wiped the expression off her face, her face growing hot. It wasn't uncomfortable, no, she didn't hate it, but the attention was far too overwhelming.

This shower of praise was not something she was used to, being the quiet, mysterious one. She actually thought people were afraid of her, but all these people that were complimenting and congratulating her seemed to make her second guess her hypothesis. Maybe she wasn't the weed on the sidewalk, after all.

Her classmates soon began to filter out to change for next period, leaving her alone but not lonely, their kind praises and smiles lingering in her delicate empathic shield. She didn't want to let them go, not just yet.

She knew she should head back, as well, but the attention and the fact that Damian had let her win left her far too stunned to budge from her place.

"Good game, Roth."

She whipped around, startled, catching green and ebony and a warm, lopsided smile.

Her heart skipped a beat.

There was just something about Damian's lopsided smiles, they were...uncharacteristically…. _charming_.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, doling out a usual note of her monotone voice to mask her surprise. "What game? You let me win."

He scratched the back of his head and Raven couldn't deny catching the pink that tinted his ears. He seemed at a loss for words. He seemed... _flustered_.

"I uh...no I didn't." He cleared his throat as he shrugged. "You won fair and square."

It took every ounce of effort to keep staring at him, right at those eyes she grew to think were the most gorgeous shade of green, but she did, she had to. Even though through every second passed, the cogs turned faster in her mind and her heart thrashed quicker in her chest, she had to.

The answer to her burning question was there, in his eyes, but for the life of her, she couldn't decipher it.

"You're such a bad liar, you know?" she chuckled, shaking her head. Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "You're looking out for me, aren't you?"

That part she knew for certain. But there was a deeper 'why', one that ran under the surface of his actions, one that scurried past his spoken and unspoken words and actions.

Damian was keen. He knew how Gotham Academy treated him, and he knew equally well how Gotham Academy treated her. He knew how he was showered with attention while she was left reading Charles Dickens in the classroom corner. He wasn't oblivious to her being the weed to the sidewalk, he knew it, and what's more is that he always actively tried to counteract it.

It wasn't until now that she realized that he did so. Even him giving her his sweater that one time before, it was all the same. Sure, she knew he was looking out for her now, but there was a deeper 'why', an underlying 'because', and that, well, Raven had no clue as to what that was. She wasn't even entirely sure if Damian knew himself.

"Um...," he muttered, his lips pursing delicately, forming a perfect pretty line.

Before the action had even registered in her mind, her hand reached out naturally to rest on his shoulder. He was as warm as he looked, being that his face was a little flushed and his breathing was slightly heavy. If it was from their little spiel from earlier or whatever, she did not now. He certainty didn't look like he exerted much effort, but maybe she was just being hypersensitive, or maybe she really did challenge him more than how he made it look. By the time she touched him, it was too late to pull her arm away, so she let it linger there.

If she hadn't been holding him she wouldn't have felt the faint jump cause by the contact. She was able to see without any enhancement or advantage, however, his ears turn even pinker as it crept to his cheeks.

She cocked her head as a small smile ghosted her lips.

"Thank you."

The thump was getting too loud in her ears as she gaped at his innocently surprised expression. It was getting much too loud and frantic and her mind was swirling with thoughts, none of them coherent, so she swiftly turned her heel to head back into the locker room to change, but the thoughts and her heart did not cease, not one bit.

Azar, what _was_ this?

"Rae?" he called, and she turned to him quickly as if his words were a lasso, reeling her in.

She was trying to get rid of this feeling, why didn't he let her do so?

"Don't get too comfortable," he gave her the same charming grin, "I'll get you back next time."

 _Tha-dump._ She just couldn't run away from this, could she?

She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day, but she wasn't annoyed this time, no.

"For now, have fun cleaning up the equipment for me, won't you?"

After all, she was smiling, too.

"Next time, Rae, next time."

With a casual salute, he, too turned around to head to his respective locker room. She watched as his strapping shoulders swung in perfect harmony with his hips. She watched as he walked like he was on some sort of goddamn runway. She watched until he disappeared into the locker room and she was left gawking stupidly at nothingness.

 _Tha-dump._

She groaned, burying her blazing cheeks in her hands.

Azar, what _was_ this, and what _exactly_ was she getting herself into?

All of this denying but she couldn't run away from the painstakingly obvious conclusion: there was _something_ about that stupid, hot-headed brat that made her heart go wild...

...and maybe she liked it.

* * *

A/N: You know that feeling when you think you like somebody and then they do something and you're like "crap, I think I like them?" Well, that's Raven right now. Maybe not the _like_ like, I'm trying to establish more of a physical attraction between them right now (since, let's be honest, how could they at least not be _attracted_ to one another). Raven will probably try to deny it in the future and shove her feelings to the side, but this epiphany moment was bound to happen for her, don't you think? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Lavender, Libraries, and Loudmouths

A/N: Finally an update on this one! Sorry guys, this one is kind of a turning point and it took a while to get the feel of it juuuuust right (in which I hope I nailed it this time). I thoroughly enjoy this chapter, so I hope you guys do, too! Please enjoy and tell me what you think!

Oh, and also, starting this chapter, it appears this might take more direction plot-wise than I originally intended (instead of one shots), so I want to rename the whole fic. Since I'm complete and utter crap at titles, I'm open to suggestions! (After reading this chapter, though *waggles eyebrows*)

Another also: Thank you for all the kind comments! I'm new to this site so the system is still foreign to me, so if I don't reply, just know I love and appreciate every comment xoxo

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em or make money off of this, same old news.

* * *

The awe that flickered on her face was bright enough to light up every nook and cranny in Wayne Manor's library, without the need of the soft sunlight that spilled into the room. It cast a delicate haze, splashing the walls with sunset, illuminating Raven with a halo of fierce reds and ecstatic oranges. She looked...mystical.

Damian didn't mean to stare.

But it was as if he was looking at a staged photograph for one of those professional magazine photoshoots – she could certainly be a model. But he knew he was staring, anyways. It could have been the way her winter attire seemed to wrap snugly around her, or the broad smile she wore – a broad smile for Raven, at least— but whatever it was, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, even if he wanted to (which he didn't, it's not like she noticed him, anyways. Plus, her smile was so rare.). But even in the Teen Titans common room when she'd be snuggled on the couch with her chamomile lavender tea and favorite book, she'd never looked this comfortable. Or _happy_.

He was leaning on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, finding a blush tickle his own cheeks. Maybe it was her empathic abilities that made him feel her fascination, her excitement, her awe. After all, ever since she healed him when Jaime scorched his skull (1), their empathetic capabilities were always...sensitive to one another's. The connection was quite stronger than he bargained for, feeling her emotions in the most uncalled for circumstances. Like now. The emotions she was experiencing now were like a warm wool blanket in their current brutal Gotham winter, embracing him, embracing _them,_ and he couldn't help but smile at the sensation. Why did looking at her like this bring a smile to his face?

Feeling and responding were two different things. Normally, he'd feel the buzz of her anxiety when fighting a tough enemy, or anger when Beast Boy snooped around in her off-limits room. Never, did it make him act on said feelings (he always wanted to tape Beast Boy's mouth closed without the need of Raven's anger, anyways). But he was smiling now, quite surely like an idiot, too. It was oddly...nice...but also curious. Maybe fascination played a different card, or perhaps this emotion she was experiencing now was just really that strong. She certainly didn't have the best control over transference when she was feeling a wave of intense emotion. He settled on that, trying to shake the sensation off, dampening his smile, as he pushed himself off the wall and cleared his throat.

What was this witch-girl in front of him swooning over first-edition books doing to him?

"You like it?" he asked nonchalantly as he strolled towards her, his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

"Do I _like_ it?" – she gave him a small chuckle – "Damian it's...it's _brilliant_!" she exclaimed, turning to him.

He felt her smile like a shock to his system.

Just when did her smile start doing that to him? Just when did he need it like air to breathe or water to survive? Back when he first joined the team, he always wanted to see her smile, but solely because he wasn't quite sure she was capable of the action. Now, here she was, with her cheeks tinted pink and her delicate lips curved, and, now, he wanted to see it for more reasons than just one.

He cleared his throat again, this time leaning on a shelf next to her.

"I'll take that as a yes," he acknowledged as he raised his brow. He found himself doing that a lot more since he started school at Gotham Academy. "I thought you'd like it."

She was now too busy running her fingers over the names of the authors and novels. He watched her fingers, her delicate fingers whose nails were always painted over black and were covered with rings. Raven more many rings. That, and her almost completely black attire truly solidified her reputation as a witch. And the quiet, mysterious, goth, too, but recently, he was starting to second-guess just how well she fit in with the latter. Raven, it surprisingly turned out, was far more willing to listen to "Baby It's Cold Outside" and hum along than he originally assumed. Not to mention her large obsession with any genre of literature, including romance and children's books. Not, like he originally thought, creepy Gothic novels or anything dealing with the Bubonic Plague.

The graceful whip of her head brought his attention back to her, and a smile formed on his lips as an automatic reply.

"Thank you," she whispered, then quickly turned her head away faster than Barry could run from Metropolis to Gotham. Still, he saw it – Raven blushed. Was it because he smiled at her?

He shrugged, but not for her, he knew she couldn't see him. But he shrugged anyway and felt his face go crimson. Thank god she wasn't looking at him. He cleared his throat again.

"Thank father," he scoffed, "and the previous Waynes before him. They curated these, not me. Although..." He shifted, trying to ignore the warmth of her body as he leaned over her to point to a book. "This one was added by me, all thanks to the suggestion of a heavily experienced book reader."

" _The House on Mango Street_! (2)" she gasped, twirling the books in her hands, as if to memorize its shape and texture, as if she hadn't memorized it already.

Nine times out of ten, when Damian sensed Raven was in a bad mood, or upset about anything, he'd always see her in that common room with this book. After the huge fight with her father? _The_ _House on Mango Street_. After the first day moving to Gotham for this mission? _The_ _House on Mango Street_. He bet she knew every line and chapter name of this book. Heck, he swore she knew the exact pages where every chapter started.

"This is the copy I gave you." She gave him a look of disbelief, her jaw slack with surprise.

He found himself chuckling at her expression, "indeed it is," taking it from her hands, he flipped its pages and stared at the familiar letters, "and I thought maybe it could find its home here, at the Wayne Manor library."

He handed it back to her, and she admired it like she was looking at a photograph that carried a hundred memories.

"'They will not know I have gone away to come back.'..."

"'For the ones I left behind.'," he continued.

"'For the ones who cannot out.'" She smirked, carefully placing it back into the stack of books, "Who said it was a child's story again?"

He threw her a lopsided grin. "Oh, I still think it's a children's story." He walked around her to adjust the brightness with the blinds. The sun was almost gone from the horizon now, but yet he still felt its warmth...weird.

Turning to her once again, he cocked his head to the side. "It's just one of those stories that carry much more than what the surface appears."

She raised an eyebrow to him this time. One of Raven's most characteristic habits. "I told you it was a good book."

He couldn't help but chuckle and smirk. "I never said it was a good book."

Taking a seat in one of the sofas, she threw him a massive eye roll and scoffed. "Says the boy that memorized some lines and thought it deserved its place in his library."

As he approached her on the sofa, he noticed that she had picked up their copy of _Brave New World_ (3) and was casually flipping through it.

"Give me a break," she added.

Damian sat next to her, watching her ebony hair as it fell from behind her ear. The last time he saw her hair tucked behind her ear like that was when he was with Maps and she came up from behind him, surprising him. Like the last time, it looked...how he'd die to be the one to...He shook his head, trying to focus on the book, but the sudden scent of lavender distracted him. All he seemed to smell recently was lavender.

"You know you –" She looked at him, her words suddenly stopping, "- umm...liked it." There was a hitch in her breath and a flutter to her eyes, and she finished her thought, but a fraction of a second later. Such a minute pause, but he caught it.

She appeared to be relaxed this time as she smiled, turning her head to observe the book once again. Her cheeks were pink, but then again, since that moment before, her cheeks never seemed to stop being pink.

"This is your favorite book," she stated softly.

Damian furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't think I ever told you my favorite book."

She shook her head, replying, "You didn't." She looked to him again, and the scent of lavender seemed to have gotten stronger. "I'm just guessing."

Raven was so close that he could feel the warmth of her skin through than thin sweater she wore. He noted the subtle vanilla in her lavender shampoo or perfume or whatever it was. He always thought her eyes were black, but being so close to her, he noticed that they were more of a deep purple, like a jewel, an amethyst.

He didn't try to look away this time, locking his eyes with hers. It was..odd...her pupils were large, unusually large. Unless that was just how Raven's eyes always were. They looked black from far away, anyways, it's not like he'd have ever noticed before.

"It's very close," he smirked (not, as another intrusive thought screamed 'we're very close') as he watched her eyebrows knit."But not my _favorite_. My favorite is –"

Before he could finish his sentence, the subtle taste of old books and vanilla met his tongue. She had clasped her hand on his mouth while her other hand steadied itself on his shoulder. In the process, she had pushed him so that his back collided with the arm of the chair. Most of her upper body weight was on him. In fact, she was nearly _on top_ of him.

" _Shut up_ ," she hissed, although it sounded musical to him. "I want to find out on my own."

He shifted underneath her, grasping her waist as he tried to free his mouth. God, her skin looked so smooth. Did her skin always look like porcelain? Did he always think she smelled so...good? It wasn't like he didn't like the smell of lavender and vanilla before, but he would be lying if he didn't find himself craving it more since their stay here in Gotham.

Her normally huge eyes grew even wider as she hesitantly drew her hand away, not moving otherwise. Her pupils seemed to have consumed the rest of the purple left in her irises. "Oh...uh...I'm sorry."

He cleared his throat for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day.

Jeez, Raven always made his heart thrash in his chest like no other. Was this part of her empathic abilities again? Soon he'd have to talk to her about that. It was highly uncomfortable, unlike anything he'd ever felt. He always found himself feeling more drawn to her when it happened, so he was almost positive at this point it had to do with her powers. Like now, when he was willed to tilt his head so that their faces were a couple of mere inches apart. Darn it, he had excellent control over his heart when he needed to, could even stop it momentarily if he wanted to trick someone into thinking he was dead. But now, now it was merciless, twisting in his chest, pounding against his ribcage, and what's more is that he just couldn't stop it. What the _hell_ was she doing to him?

"Okay...I won't tell you," he whispered.

They were so close.

All he could see was that porcelain skin of hers and the fluttering of her eyes. He couldn't sense anything other than her. He knew they were in the library. He knew it was so dark now that the moon and remnants of the sunset were the only source of light. But nothing, nothing except for her soft breath on his face, the tickle of her eyelashes on his cheek, the warmth of her tight grasp on his arm, registered in his mind. It was her. Just _her_. For all things bad, good, and in between what was she _doing_ to him?

She breathed out slowly, her lips parted, her gaze steady. Oh, his heart.

They were so close, if anyone came storming in there, they'd assume they were about to –

"OHHH BAAAABY BIIIIRD!" An obnoxious voice sang. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Jason.

She pulled away, shooting him a glance that appeared...guilty. Guilty of what?

"I TOLD ALFRED YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND NOW AND HE DOESN'T BELIEVE ME!"

God, Jason was such a loudmouth. Could he just shut up for once?

His voice was close, warningly close, and Damian's fight or flight response kicked in. It was just Jason. Not a threat. Just a stupid guy trying to prove his false hypothesis to his butler. But even so, his arms wrapped around Raven, her head knocked against his chest, her arms, in surprise, clutched onto his shoulders, and his back bounced against the seats of the couch. If any perpetrator would simply look into the library, they would be guarded by the back of the couch. If said perpetrator would try to search the room...well...then it looked like what it really was – them, in each other's arms...on top of each other... However, the fact that they didn't turn on the lights or take off any of their outerwear in the library, there was no trace that anybody was there. Just what he wanted.

"Let's give Jason a run for his money," he whispered against her hair. Her hair was exactly like he imagined it to be: soft like the silk of his sheets.

She nodded into his chest, a movement so minute he wouldn't have known she did if she wasn't pressed against him.

He would have struck his forehead with his palm if they were free and Raven wasn't in his arms. What kind of stupid excuse was that? Truth be told, he didn't know why he did it: he just did. Did he want to? Did he always want to hold her, like this? He could have let Jason find them. It's not like he would have asked him a question he couldn't have answered.

She fit so well between the circle of his arms. _Just when did he realize that?_ he thought. Of course he never realized that before, how could he have realized it if he never held Raven like this? Sure, he caught her in battle more than a few times, but he was too drugged up on adrenaline to fully observe her shape and the warmth of her body and the scent he could only describe as Raven. He never held her like _this_ before. Oh, lord, maybe he _did_ want to...

If Jason decided to search the room, it 100% wouldn't look like they were trying to hide from him. They plainly looked like they were hugging. Because, in essence of the term, they were. That would have surely proved his hypothesis true. _Oh god_ , if only he didn't do this, they would just be talking about books had Jason popped in...right? Or maybe...maybe...something _more_? They were certainly too close to comfort before his screaming interrupted them.

They were so close...what was he _doing_?

In the blunt, empty silence surrounding them, Damian couldn't stand to hear the echo of footsteps reverberate throughout the room, sounding like a army in the acoustics of the small space. Not that the thoughts in his mind were any better. Why did he care what Jason thought? Why did he do this, why did he pull Raven in an embrace like this? What was he _hiding_ from? If he didn't care about Jason calling Raven his girlfriend, he would holler his name right now and have him find them. But his heart was racing, the pulse merciless in his ears, and his mouth couldn't utter a single syllable.

But, surely, Jason would tease them relentlessly, even if he did just find them there _talking_ , that was just the way Jason was. Surely. Positively... _Maybe_...

"Goddammit, where did that little brat and his girlfriend go?" he heard Jason call from somewhere down the hallway. "I'm sure they're making out. Let's cock-block them."

Surely not a thought that formed some clarity in his mind after Jason mentioned it, not at all. Not. At. All.

Raven exhaled slowly. Her warm breath ghosting his neck was apparently the only thing that was needed to stop his breath. How stupid, even supervillains couldn't kill him, and yet here Raven was, with her lavender-scented hair, her delicate, soft body, and her breath against his skin, and it was enough to practically stop his own breath and kill him. Just a girl, just his teammate. Just his friend... _friend_ …

"Master Jason, I'm quite sure you're overreacting," Alfred's voice sounded unamused and muffled compared to Jason's hollering.

"I'll show you."

Their voices sounded just outside the vicinity of the library when suddenly, their footsteps stopped.

 _Oh, no._

"I'm not quite sure you understand," Alfred sighed. "There are more important needs I must attend to. For now, I simply do not care."

"Alfred," Jason gasped in his joking, half-amused voice. "How could you?"

"Believe me, Master Jason, when the time comes that he finally realizes his feelings for Miss Roth, then I will surely have plans for them. For now," his footsteps started back up, "he is a lost puppy, and it is rather entertaining to see him confused like this. Let me cherish it a little longer, would you?"

What? Him? Having feelings for Raven? Of course he had feelings for her, she was his friend. He wasn't a robot, contrary to popular belief. He even had feelings for Beast Boy.

Jason gasped again. "You said ' _when_ '!"

Their voices were trailing away again. Lucky for them Jason always had a limited attention span.

"Are you an idiot, Jason? Can you not see? I know –" Alfred must have turned his head away or turned the corner because his words were hard to detect except for, "when I see it" in which after those, Damian heard no trace of them any longer.

If he distracted himself with appearing busy with listening to Jason and Alfred, he wouldn't have to attend to this huge problem on his chest. Metaphorical and _physical_. The thought hit him with its blunt full force, and he rolled his eyes, chastising himself. How was she feeling? How would she respond? What would she think? Just what the _hell_ was he going to react or say to Raven now that they were gone? 'Oh, I didn't want them to find us'. What a bull crap excuse.

It was bad enough he had to think of a way to appear normal and not like his heart was lurching out of this throat, but now, thanks to this pleasant session of eavesdropping featuring the dysfunctional Wayne household, Raven just heard that he might have had feelings for her. They thought…he had... _feelings_ for Raven? What kind of feelings? Those...romantic ones? ...Physical ones?

He shook his head.

No way. It couldn't be. He didn't _do_ those feelings.

"Damian?" Raven's voice was breathy from their proximity and it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

His body seemed to _seriously_ disagree.

But...it was so odd. Looking at her like this felt so right. Holding her like this felt so right. She had hair over her face. Tucking it behind her ear like she had it that one time felt...so... _right_. Everything felt so right with Raven.

Her face was bright red, and her breathing came in a soft, ragged rhythm.

She was beautiful. Did he always know that? Her huge eyes eyed him intently, her lips parted, and they were red and swollen. She must have been biting them. An odd thought washed over him.

"Damian...I...I can't," she gasped, with a subtle shake of her head.

And like that, with a flash of her powers, like a whisper of smoke, she vanished.

He blinked, scanning the room. The room felt suddenly bleak, empty, bland. It was utterly dark now, and the darkness settled around him like a murky fog. His heart suddenly felt like it was twisting wildly in his chest. His chest didn't even feel lighter without her weight, it felt more like...empty, like something was missing. Her warmth, maybe. Lavender and vanilla. Why did she go? What did she mean? What did he do _wrong_?

He ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a sigh between his clenched teeth. The last thing he wanted was for her to run away from him. He sighed again, collapsing once again on the smooth leather of the couch.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he buried his face into his palms.

"What are you doing to me, Raven?"

* * *

A/N: DUN DUN DUN what's gonna happen next...oh, I wonder *smirks* This suddenly turned very...serious? But I like it? Damian's catching something, huh? Anyways, here's some more important notes -

(1) Justice League vs Teen Titans reference. (Since this is based on their JLvTT selves)

(2) _The House on Mango Street_ by Sandra Cisneros. I've recently found out that some schools here in the states use it as required reading in middle school or high school or something (I didn't read it in my town, but I read it recently in one of my English classes at uni). The language is simple, but the book itself is deceptively simple, and surprisingly really deep when read with an older perspective. The quote I quoted is the very last few sentences of the book, and it really struck me and I personally feel like it brings the novel around full circle. It's definitely top there in one of my favorite books I've read, so give it a go if you haven't read it yet (or if you have when you were younger, read it again! I'm sure you'll pick up something different this time).

(3) _Brave New World_ by Aldous Huxley. I've introduced many people to this book because it has such an awesome concept that is far more realistic to us than the time period it was written in. Dystopian fiction that deals with the effects of science, technology, etc. Also highly recommend!

p.s. Being an English literature major, I will probably drop reviews of the books I mention down here, in case you're interested. It's just something I do naturally, (we English majors can't help it) sorry folks.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!

Until next time,

Cass


	5. Confessions

A/N: Hi again! Like I said, this story is easier to write so I usually will update it faster than Tempest, so...yeah...here it is. I hope you find it satisfying after leaving you hanging from last chapter hue hue hue

Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't make money.

Please enjoy!

* * *

 _Holy hell._

Were they….?

...Did they almost...?

Could it be that he...?

No.

It couldn't be.

There was no way in this dimension or the next dimension or any other dimension that her and Damian Wayne were about to kiss. No freaking way.

But he was so so _so_ close to her, she could smell the harmonious mix of his hair gel and cologne, and see the all the different yellows and golds and greens in his irises, the small scar on his right eyebrow, the lone eyelash stuck on his cheek. She had an urge to wipe away that eyelash but...her arms were stuck underneath his weight and warmth, and another part of her had an urge to not let go, because, if she did, then she would lose that warmth. _Azar_. That tension was more than just uncomfortable, it was excruciating. She felt like it was going to snap if something didn't happen. If he spoke, or she spoke, or they did kiss (which they didn't) - _whatever_ , anything other than just staring at him would have sufficed. Thankfully, she spoke first, so she'd now have to deal with solely the repercussions of possibly maybe _almost_ kissing him instead of _actually_ kissing him, if she did, in fact, kiss him. Which she didn't.

Not that these repercussions were monumentally any better.

Raven exhaled slowly, shutting her eyes for a long moment, replaying and assessing the situation that took place not seconds ago over and over and _over_ again. Before anything else could happen, of course she used her convenient magic to teleport away to the Wayne Manor garden, just because she was terrified of what could have happened. Terrified? Maybe not necessarily terrified, perhaps scared...or nervous…

Tucked away behind a particularly massive bush in the shape of a horse, she collapsed onto the grass and buried her face into her palms. Azar, what was Damian thinking trying to hide like that from Jason? He could have chosen any other way, any other _position_ , but no, he chose to embrace her, out of all things. What was he thinking? Did it matter that Jason thought her and Damian were...umm... _together_? Did it matter that much to him? Did he not...like her?

She shook her head, sighing again.

Jeez, it didn't matter if Damian didn't like her, did it? Why would it? He was her teammate and friend, nothing more.

Teammate and friend that let her borrow his sweatshirt, and would accompany her to the library when she wanted to find a book, and would have engaging conversations with her about _Wuthering Heights_ , and she would find herself getting lost in those green gems he called eyes, especially when he talked about particular things that interested him and he would just talk for Azar knows how long but she never once tried to stop him because she was too busy observing how, sometimes, when he blinked, his left eye dragged slightly behind the right, and his dimple on his cheek when he smiled, and how easily his voice could change from lighthearted to serious, and how he stuck his tongue out when he was concentrating, and how she was able to tell just by the clicking of his shoes that he entered the room, and all those times they spent together in the library doing homework or just reading together or in the manor working on the mission, and just how...comfortable she found herself being here, at Gotham Academy, with him.

How did it go from 'just a teammate' to this? What was…' _this_ '? They were surely still defined as friends, they surely trusted each other more than usual, and they were together, _alone_ , a lot, but what did that mean? Friends still felt that way about each other, surely, friends still hung out alone. But she was friends with Beast Boy and Jaime, she practically grew up with them, they were like siblings. And with Garfield and Jaime she never found her heart pounding against her ribcage or her thoughts feeling like they were spilled into a blender or her breath getting shallow and her cheeks feeling hot whenever they were alone together, talking, or eating, or watching a movie, _anything_. But hell, with Damian...Damian was a completely different story. Just thinking of him made her cheeks flare. Not to mention uncomfortable scenarios where they were staring at each other for a prolonged period of time while they were in each other's arms.

If she didn't leave, would they have...kissed? Did he want to kiss her then, in that moment?

She let her head fall onto the stone behind her, pulling her legs tightly into her chest as she breathed in the crisp night air. The wind pricked at her skin underneath the thin sweater she wore, but fortunately for her, she still felt hot from what happened and her mind was too frazzled to worry about the cold.

No...that wasn't the question she should be asking herself.

She rolled her eyes, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth as she shook her head. Azar, she felt lame. Damian made no move to try and kiss her. He just happened to very romantically tuck some hair behind her ear and linger his hand on her face and stare longingly into her eyes. No biggie.

Even if he did or didn't, it's not like she would have known...but…

Did she…?

Did _she_ want to kiss _him_?

Damian probably never kissed anyone, knowing his stance on crushes and romance, let alone made out with someone. He was just...Damian Wayne. He didn't do the hearts and flowers and romantic candlelit dinners and he probably would throw around insults thinking it was a compliment and honestly he was probably a really _rough_ kisser. She just couldn't imagine him being so close to someone that he'd treat them like his favorite Renaissance statue and kiss them gently and repeatedly and wrap them in his oh so glorious scent and infectious warmth, those strong hands of his tangled in their hair and over their body and... _Azar_...she _was_ imagining it. And who was the girl? Her? Did she want to be that girl? The thought was unwelcome but she oddly couldn't push it out of her head, like it was a stuck broken record. She really didn't need to replay Damian making out with some unknown imaginary girl. Not right now.

Jeez, and knowing him, he probably didn't even know what the term 'making out' meant. Or maybe he did, but he would describe it in the most practical, matter-of-fact way, and not romantic whatsoever. He just wasn't a really romantic person...but...today seemed to contradict that statement. The way his hand brushed her cheek, his embrace, the voice he used with her, they were so warm and soft and so un-Damian Wayne. It was like, recently, his whole set of mannerisms changed around her. The way he would look at her when discussing the plans for the mission with Batman and Nightwing and the rest was just...different. His eyes would soften and his shoulders would relax and there would be a faint trace of a smile on his lips that read: 'I'm here for you'.

And, Azar, those lips...she did always think his lips looked nice...they were such a nice shape, and looked so soft, she probably wouldn't have minded feeling them on her skin…

She sighed, clutching her knees even tighter to her chest.

...Maybe even feeling them...on…

...hers…

Groaning, she flushed straight to her toes.

What the hell was she thinking?

He was her teammate and friend and they were on this mission to scope out an enemy in their school, not fall for each other. Jeez, what was she thinking of him, like this? Damian Wayne was the heir of Gotham city and also attractive as hell. He could get any girl he wanted - a drop-dead gorgeous model with perfect teeth and a perfect body and just...everything Raven wasn't. What chance did she, a witch girl that curled up in the corner reading British literature that wore all plain black clothes and didn't really put on makeup or show off her body, have? How could he like someone like her? Someone with a dark past, someone that was born as a pawn to her father's plan, someone that was meant to destroy Earth, his planet? There was no way in hell she was good enough for him. Damian was an eccentric, gorgeous, cunning, talented, smart, seventeen year old guy. He wore Gucci suits that were hand tailored and didn't even need school he was so infuriatingly educated. If you gave him time and a means of learning, he could do anything - his skill set was limitless. Sure, he had anger management issues and an ego that would put Jason to shame and problems trusting and working as a team, but he was learning, and he wasn't perfect, she knew that, but the sheer fact that he was trying was enough. And his flaws were what made him. She couldn't imagine a Damian Wayne that didn't get pissed off if you said Tim Drake was a better Robin.

He was Damian Wayne, son of the Batman, Robin, heir of Gotham, and the most popular guy in Gotham Academy.

She was just...Raven, Rachel Roth, a mysterious empath witch that pushed people away if they got too close. A plain, normal girl. No match for someone beautiful like Damian and an equally beautiful, talented human being if one came sauntering his way.

He couldn't have liked her. He was probably just confused as to why she was looking at him so excruciatingly long. They were good friends (emphasis on _good_ ), and, again, he never made a move to try and kiss her, in fact, he probably just didn't know how to politely say 'get off and stop staring at me. You're creeping me out.' But Alfred and Jason...they thought Damian had...feelings for her. He was surely kidding. They must have known they were in the library. Damian vaguely mentioned it, anyways. It was probably part of their stupid prank. There was 100% no way that he could like someone like her. No way.

She was plain, not beautiful, uninteresting, boring, -

"Raven?"

Before she knew it, a voice was next to her. But to her relief, it wasn't a male's voice. It wasn't Damian.

"Are you okay? I was in the garden and I heard someone crying."

She looked up. Barbara.

For the first time in those how many minutes, she felt the tears stinging her cheeks in a soft, steady stream. Using her trembling hands, she wiped the tears from her face, forcing a laugh. It sounded more caustic than comforting, and Barbara must have known she was trying to cover up her crying, because then she knelt next to her, stroking her hair.

"Raven, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice equally gentle.

Her forehead met her knees. "N...nothing, I'm okay, really," she mumbled through some sniffles.

"Raven, look at me," she commanded in the kindest, stern voice she could manage.

She couldn't help but obey, locking eyes with the concern in Barbara's expression. Her mouth was in a thin, taut line, and her bright eyes glowered in the moonlight.

"What did he do to you?" she asked in a low voice.

Raven furrowed her eyebrows.

"Who?"

"You know who. Damian. Did he hurt you?"

Oh.

She felt another tear stain her cheek. Crap, how was she supposed to lie to Barbara in this state? What was she even supposed to tell her? 'No, we just hugged.' Wow, what an excellent reason to be crying. Just excellent. She didn't want it to seem like Damian put a hand on her. She knew he would never, he would never intentionally hurt her.

"Son of a...I'll beat him up, I swear to God," she growled. "He should really learn how to calm his temper sometimes."

She was about to stand up until Raven tugged her sleeve, forcing her to stay crouched next to her.

"It's not that….Damian...he didn't hurt me...he would never…" she spoke softly, drawing patterns in the grass with her free hand, and watching as the breeze shuffled them back into place.

"Then what is it, honey? You can tell me anything, you know that."

"It's just he...I…" she found herself trailing off again as her heartbeat began to pound against her ears.

Barbara's hand was back to stroking her hair as she sat down next to her. "What?"

"I...I…" she clasped her hands together, and they felt clammy and weak.

She breathed slowly, turning to face Barbara as she pushed some hair in her face behind her ear.

"Raven, you can trust me."

She swallowed hard, the pulse in her ears pounding louder than it ever did, her heart in her chest straining to break free, everything felt like it was spinning, and she knew only one way to stop it.

"I like him, Barbara. I like Damian. I like him so much and I...I just don't know what to do about it. I've never felt this way about anyone ever and it just...hurts...thinking, _knowing_ he may not feel the same about me, that he might not even know how I feel. I just...what do I do?"

Barbara stared at her with a deer-in-headlights expression, her mouth agape.

She forced out a breath that she didn't even know she was holding.

There. She said it. She finally admitted it.

After time and time again of running around the conclusion and avoiding it and trying to deny it, after tonight, she couldn't seem to run away any longer. Avoiding it just made it hurt all the more.

She liked him, she liked Robin, heir to Gotham, the most popular guy in Gotham Academy, son of Bruce Wayne, she freaking _liked_ him, all of his crazy personas and mood swings and different personalities, she freaking _fell_ for him. Hard.

She liked Damian Wayne. She liked him to the point where her heart would ache if she were to see he wasn't in his seat in the second period class they had together, and only seeing him settle in it would give her relief for the day. She liked him to the point where she was boiling with jealousy when Claire, the pretty shrill-voiced brunette, asked for help for a Calculus problem and another and another. She liked him to the point where her mind was a jumbled mess whenever he would simply just talk to her, and she couldn't seem to find sensible words anymore. He made her heart wild and her nerves fray and her skin tingle.

Azar, it felt good to finally admit it.

She liked him. She liked him. She liked him.

Barbara chuckled, surprising her.

She turned a raised eyebrow towards her.

"Oh, honey. Then there's just one thing you have to do."

Raven furrowed her eyebrows as Barbara flashed a sly grin.

"Confess. Tell him you like him."

Her eyes widened.

 _Oh, no_.

* * *

A/N: *sly grin* until next time, lovelies, I'll leave you with this,

Cass


	6. Related Rates

A/N: Hello everyone finally an update on this one after almost *cough* a year (so sorry). Thank you to all that keep loving and supporting me, I wouldn't be able to do it without you. This took a different turn than I originally intended but I do actually like it more than the original write up so...I hope you enjoy it It's messy, it's around 3:30am here and I don't feel like proofreading it, so here it is. Without further adieu, here's the new chapter!

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Still don't make money.

* * *

"I never said I _despised_ math," Raven mused as she pushed some hair behind her ear, laid her pencil down beside her, and turned to glare at Damian. "I just like English _better_. I like to read, you know that."

It appeared that he had been watching her for quite some time. At the very least, he quite certainly looked entertained. His hands were folded neatly before him, and what's more – and Raven felt some odd _...thing_ (for lack of a better term) tug at her heart at the sight of it – was that his chin was leaning on said neatly folded hands, his head cocked to the side. He looked undeniably comfortable, and it even almost looked like he was enjoying the spectacle _._

As she was eyeing him, some _thing_ , some... _scent_ tickled her...making scrunch her nose. It was a rather pleasant scent, it wasn't as if it bothered her, no, but for the life of her, she just couldn't tell the source, or what it was, for that matter.

A blush threatened to disrupt her placid expression at the thought of it, but she was able to thwart it by scratching her eye, even though it was admittedly _not_ itchy.

His eyebrow arched. "Really? Because you've been mumbling to yourself for the past fifteen minutes. No – you've been _cursing_ at yourself for the past fifteen minutes."

She found herself frowning.

"Calculus is difficult, okay?" she reasoned, picking up her pencil and tapping it on the table as she turned her attention back to the jeering related rates problem on the page. She had been stumped on it for the last fifteen minutes, and it was most definitely the reason why Damian had noticed she was cursing at herself.

She certainly wasn't at her peak attractive level right now, being that this problem was about to bring out the demon in her. And Damian had been witnessing every single little thing she said.

 _This cursed related rates problem,_ she spat.

But _wait_...how did he know everything she said to herself? It was like he was hypersensitive to her, overly observant. But why?

 _Azar_...and it wasn't like on Saturday they _maybe_ almost kissed and _maybe_ (she did) she admitted to Barbara that she _liked_ him even though she wasn't even entirely sure at this point what kind of _like_ it was, like the romantic kind of like? But _God_ she swore she felt _something_ towards this boy.

He head was spinning.

How did she even manage to play things off like nothing ever happened?

Then again, she was Raven. That's just what Raven did.

She shook her head and sighed.

But then why did things just feel...so weird between them...especially now...since...then...

She rolled her eyes up suspiciously and found that he was still watching her in the same manner. There was an unspoken "what?" in the raising of his eyebrows, and he propped his elbow up on the table, allowing his hand to catch his cheek as he waited for a response.

Okay, now she _really_ felt the blush crawling to her cheeks.

Immediately, she shot her glance back down at the textbook, the abrupt motion causing hair to fall over her face. Her pencil went back to work.

"Have you just been watching me?" She tried to sound condescending, but didn't know how successful she was at doing so, being that her throat felt tight. "Don't you have work to do?"

She sensed him stiffen and decided it was safe to observe him under her eyelashes to see if she was correct.

"I finished it all."

Glancing at him, she found his cheeks and ears tinted ever so slightly pink — or was she just imagining it? Wishing for it?

For a few moments only the scritching of her mechanical pencil sang into the silence of Gotham Academy's prodigious library. Gotham Academy was known for its extensive library; it contained so much nonfiction and fiction and almanacs and magazines and much, much more that it was impossible to keep track of. No wonder it had become one of Raven's favorite spaces in the whole school. Not to mention, it was massive and seemed to stretch out to the infinities, so there was always an empty space where she could read absolutely undisturbed. It was also why she and Damian were able to study in a rather secluded corner without anyone bugging them.

Which was a good thing because people had been acting rather...odd around her lately. She knew she wasn't the most popular girl in her grade, in fact she even thought people were kind of scared and intimidated of her, but ever since she wore Damian's sweater that day she came in soaked, people were acting oddly...nice to her. It wasn't because they thought that her and Damian were…. _dating_ , was it?

Her heart skipped, causing her hand to slip, causing her to create a streak on her paper, further ruining the problem she was doing, and causing her to curse. _Again_.

He cleared his throat, and Raven decided to look up, assuming it was to call her.

"I can help you, you know." He shrugged, leaning towards her and his voice was deep and breathy presumably because it was the library and he was supposed to be quiet, but it held a different edge, an edge unknown to her. It was almost...silky.

And yet again that pleasant scent trailed to her nose again. Just what was it? It wasn't the smell of books – she liked the smell of books but they smelled like dust and aged paper and writers' determination. This just smelled...tempting, _sexy_ , even, like bathing in a cool summer's night as wind kissed her body and ran its gentle fingers through her hair. Like fire and ice and all things in between, both spicy hot and liquid cool. All in all, it smelled nice, she _liked_ it, she liked it very much. But where _exactly_ was it coming from?

She rotated her notebook towards him then motioned to it. He didn't need another invitation.

Squinting at her small, neat handwriting, he asked, "what are you learning again?"

"Related rates," she replied on a sigh.

He nodded, a sort of light and excitement flashing in his eyes as he twisted his neck to better read the problem. "Oh, related rates are _fun_." He never admitted it out loud, but Raven knew he was a nerd at heart.

"'Fun'," she mocked, finger quoting him. "Says Mr. 'I-have-an-A-in-AP-BC-Calculus."

He scoffed, "that's because it's easy."

"'Easy'." More finger quotes. She snorted. "Show off."

He cocked his head to her, pouting.

"Look, do you want me to help you, or not?"

Pouting! Damian was pouting! Certainly an expression she wouldn't mind seeing more often either, albeit made her heart hiccup. But she just couldn't help it, he never made that expression. It was probably because of the surprise, anyways. Hopefully. _Maybe_.

She chuckled. "I'm only kidding, jeez." Cue eye roll. "Yes, I would gladly accept your help."

This mission was revealing a side of Damian she never even knew existed. Even in another universe where he wasn't raised by deadly, serious assassins or wasn't the son of the most mysterious, deadpan person she'd ever met, would she never ever ever imagine this hot-headed, aloof brat to pout because someone was merely teasing him. It just wasn't something he did. But he was proving to be full of surprises, lately. And she couldn't help but like it.

He pushed himself up from his seat. "Very well."

Wait what —

 _Just where did he think he was going?_

He strolled around the table with his hands stationed primly behind his back, and with every scuff his feet sent echoing into the silence, she felt her heart beat louder and louder and louder. Before she had time to even assess why it did so, he was already next to her, her pencil in his hand scratching away in her notebook, his elbow knocking into her arm as he wrote, and the musky scent that trailed off of his body had saturated the rest of her senses.

She didn't even watch him solve the problem; she was too busy running her eyes down his dark hair, to the nape of his neck, to the space between there and his shirt collar, his broad back, down to his strong-looking his arms. Even though his navy blue dress shirt and grey blazer was covering it, she knew the muscle it contained underneath. Damian was a superhero, after all. There was some guilty wave of pleasure that washed over her knowing she had been the only one in all of Gotham Academy that had seen just how amazing his biceps were, that had seen him _shirtless_. And it wasn't only that that distracted her. Damian's hair gel was familiar to her: he used it all the time, so she knew it was faint unless he was less than a few inches away from her. But now, as he sat there, the aroma was slightly different. It was stronger, too. It was more woody and deeper, and she even detected some notes of vanilla.

The scent was that of...the one that kept on teasing her earlier.

 _That's_ what it was.

It was _Damian_.

There was only one conclusion: What she smelled was his _cologne_.

Damian _never_ wore cologne.

"Oh, here's what you're missing," he pointed out, straightening his back and turning to her.

"Hmm?"

She went from admiring his back with this stupid smile, to his eyes which were already watching her as she sheepishly met them. Just how long did it take for her to notice he was looking at her? He gave her the faintest trace of a nervous smile before turning back to the notebook.

Jeez, what was she _doing_? What was she _thinking_? Damian was her friend. Just because she knew him outside of Gotham Academy didn't give her the right to think of him in that manner.

...Or did it?...

...Saturday certainly questioned that possibility.

 _Azar_ , his ears were even getting pink again, which meant he must have he sensed something. She wanted to say something to him, but she didn't freaking know _what_.

"The boat is traveling due south at 15 mph," there was even a quiver in his voice, she thought so, at least, "you just forgot to add that into your equation."

She nodded.

What was she doing? She didn't even know if she knew what he was saying.

"Ah, that?" she pointed a trembling finger to a section of his neat handwriting, "oh, um, okay...I think I see."

Her heart was pounding against her chest. Why was her heart pounding against her chest? And why was it shaking her body with it? _Damnit Rae, take a hold of yourself, this isn't like you. AZARATH METRION ZINTHOS._

"Uh...no, not that, Rae," he shook his head. Nudging her hand a little lower, he spoke again after clearing his throat, "that…"

Nodding silently she bit her lip to prevent her voice from ruining her otherwise stoic composure. She hastily grabbed the pencil from Damian and finished the problem, adding the boat due south at 15mph, and he nodded along. Really, really, she couldn't look at him right now. She couldn't speak right now. God, he smelled so —

"Good," he exhaled, "you're getting the hang of it."

"Mhmm."

His fingers tapped against the stale wooden library table, they were like crescendoing notes of increasing tempo, she felt her breath hitch, until —

"Rachel."

"Hmm?"

 _AZARATH METRION ZINTHOS._

She hated how automatic her response was. Good golly Azar it was sooooooooo _wonderfully_ automatic. A flip of her hair. They're eyes latching onto each other's. That electric attraction that she _swore_ he felt.

His voice was low, scratchy, and...

" _Raven."_

 _...hurt?_

"Why have you been avoiding me lately?"

* * *

A/N: I still like cliffhangers. That will never change.

Until next time,

xoxo

Cass


	7. Excuses

A/N: An update? Finally? I'm being prolific lately. ALSO in case you're wondering about the Demonbirds x GA art that I posted on my tumblr, it is not supposed to be related to this story, I just...really like this AU okay? If I continue that it will be completely independent of this fic.

Disclaimer: Just sayin' I don't own them.

Enjoy friends!

* * *

Those words slipped out of his mouth even before they registered in his mind.

'Why have you been ignoring me?'

What an absurd thing to ask. Who knew she was even ignoring him? Even though he was a master at reading people, he always knew, from the moment he met her, that she was as readable as a rock. For an empath, she was a master at not letting other people empathize with her.

That day baffled him, the day when he first met her in the Titan's practice arena. He could see the excitement and curiosity in Beast Boy's eyes, the hesitance of Jaime...but Raven, all he saw was black. He saw nothing. How could she do that?

Even so, slowly but surely, she let him see little bits and pieces of herself, allowing him to dismantle her feelings one by one. It was then, only then, when he first saw her pain, her suffering, that he figured that they weren't so different at all. In fact, she was so much like him at times it was even scary. Trying too hard to act strong, defiant, and push away feelings whenever he wanted to...Raven was the same way…

...which led him back to the present moment. Which he was almost absolutely positive, that she was doing that now.

His words seemed to hit her like the immobilizing taser he had in his utility belt — but he was sure he didn't use it on her, not while they were in school, in public. Her mouth hung slightly open as he watched thoughts, possible replies he assumed, dash across her eyes. She wasn't looking at him either. She appeared to be looking blankly at something past him. She did that a lot when she contemplated things.

It seemed like an hour, but finally she shut her jaw, cocked her head, and met his eyes. "I haven't been ignoring you, I've merely been trying to give us space."

Her expression was deadpan, her voice an awkward monotone.

"Space?" He replied, sounding a little too curt for his liking. "What space?"

She sighed and bit her lip this time. Her eyes left his as she furrowed her eyebrows. "You know…" her words trailed off, but he could sense a tremble in them. She couldn't stay deadpan for much longer. He knew her. Putting her on the spot was one thing she hated the most. He knew she knew that he knew this about her, and while normally she would roll her eyes and teleport away, she did neither. One of them was obvious as to why she didn't, because they were in school, and no one besides him knew she was Raven of the Teen Titans. Cornering her was so easy sometimes.

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "No, Raven, I don't know."

This time her eyes pierced him. "First of all, don't call me that," she grunted through gritted teeth. "You're lucky I can sense that there's no one near us." She scoffed. "Idiot."

There was the sarcastic Raven he knew again.

"Mindless slip, my bad." He cleared his throat. "No, _Rachel_ , I don't know."

She rolled her eyes. Yes, there she was, indeed.

She sighed, pursed her lips, and darted her eyes to something, anything, but him. "You're so dull sometimes, Damian." She shook her head, and he swore he saw a blush flare across her cheeks. "People have been _talking_."

"Yeah, people do that. They talk," he replied slowly.

She clicked her tongue, and shot a heated glance at him before averting her eyes away once again.

He shrugged. If she was playing the difficult game, why couldn't he play it, too?

"Ha ha smart ass. I wasn't done," she countered. Her arms crossed over her chest. "Students at Gotham Academy have been talking about _us_. They think…" she shook her head again and cleared her throat, "they think…" her eyes rolled slowly up to meet his, "that we're _dating_."

He shrugged again, and Raven's eyes widened at the simple gesture. "But we're not."

She flinched.

"Even so, what does it matter what they believe? If they think we're dating then let them believe that, we have nothing to prove, or disapprove, to them," he added.

She still looked stunned. He felt his cheeks grow hot just by observing her facial expression.. Looking away, he scratched the back of his neck.

He heard Raven inhale slowly then pause. She was probably trying to find the right words to counter his bluntness. "Do you remember what conditions we were to have on this mission, Damian?"

He sighed. She was right.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you know we've broken almost all of them by now." She scoffed. Deadpan Raven was making her comeback. He wondered if her blush disappeared, too. "It looks suspicious, especially to that super villain we're, you know, trying to catch."

"I trust you, it's not that big of a deal that we're friends at the Academy."

"Two new kids arriving at almost the same time and then hit it off to an immediate friendship, _as if they already knew each other_. That doesn't sound threatening to you? Use your brain, bird boy." Her whispers were like sandpaper. Even though she spoke softly, her words were loud and abrasive. However, there was some truth to her words, but even so...

"...Okay...but what difference does it make that we're dating or not?" He replied, and met her eyes once again. To his surprise, she was still blushing.

"I don't know Damian," she mused as she shrugged. "All I know is that the closer we get, the more suspicious it's going to be to whoever we're trying to catch."

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "So...you're saying that we should start ignoring each other like you've been ignoring me?"

She pierced him with her stare once again.

"I'm saying...that we should just be cautious about the amount of time we spend together at the Academy," she gritted as her voice was growing more and more strained.

"And agreeing to study together during lunch aligns with this plan of yours?"

She looked taken aback...embarrassed almost.

"You know what Damian? Never mind," she growled.

Hastily, she whipped around to scramble together all her belongings, even though her calculus homework wasn't even complete. He couldn't see her face but he could sense her discomfort. Raven was only reactive when she was uncomfortable and under pressure. Her curt replies only supported this. This led him to only one conclusion: something about the topic about them dating made her uncomfortable.

"...so freaking difficult…" he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Raven…" he sighed.

Her head whipped around. "Again!" She hissed. "Your Freudian slips today."

"Ray….chel," he continued.

She was also right about that. He never _ever_ slipped this much.

"Seriously, I assure you, that there is no harm in our friendship."

" _Dating_ and _friendship_ are two different things." She zipped her bag loudly, looking up to him once her belongings were stuffed into her bag. "We spend a lot of time together. I wore your sweater _with your name_ on it. You are not a nobody like me. You are Damian freaking Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne. Every girl, teacher, and breathing thing in this school knows your name. If you were to suddenly get a girlfriend...poof!... you'll be _all_ over the Academy newspapers." She scoffed. He hadn't seen Raven this heated for a while. "We are supposed to be undercover, and yet we're attracting more attention than if we were just to bust into the Academy in our uniforms and find this villain like that."

Her arms were thrashing in a haphazard manner, in a pretty, graceful Raven-ish way.

"You are SO dull sometimes."

He followed her, as he packed all his books into her bag. She was already heading towards the door. "Okay maybe you're right. But even so, if we start acting distant, people will still talk."

"Yeah, people do that. They talk," she countered with a smirk in her voice.

He rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me, they'll gossip," he corrected.

She sighed. "Better than being plastered on the front page of the newspaper, if you ask me."

The bell screeched, and although he was never startled, he felt like someone turned the light on, a light too bright for his liking. And he was enjoying the dark. Something about talking with Raven made him forget where he was, and he couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"We can continue this later. Let's go."

As he trailed behind her quick steps, he furrowed his eyebrows and watched as she hurriedly scurried before him. She usually walked beside him, teasing him about some odd phrase he said during English. Raven was the difficult one. All this time they spent uselessly arguing, but she didn't even answer the main question he was asking. Sure, she made an excuse as to why she was ignoring him, but solely at the Academy. She very well got his hint, Raven was keen. But why did she give this stupid excuse? It wasn't just at the Academy where she was ignoring him…

...it was at Wayne manor, too. In the private of his home. And her excuse wouldn't fly there, so why would she make it?

One way or the other, there was one thing he knew for certain: Raven was never going to get away with a flimsy excuse like that.

* * *

A/N: I'm too tired to write/edit more so forgive me if it's messy.


End file.
